


Heart Beats

by Hermaline75



Series: Haematology [3]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Thor, M/M, Plague, Vampire Hunters, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:41:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26661622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermaline75/pseuds/Hermaline75
Summary: Thor has seen epidemics before. Lots of them.He has no intention of letting Loki get caught up in one.(An inevitable coronavirus fic)
Relationships: Loki/Thor
Series: Haematology [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1509284
Comments: 106
Kudos: 118





	1. 1665

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween, everybody. Hoping you're all doing as well as can be expected when, you know, everything right now...
> 
> I almost didn't want to write this fic because I know this is a real-life scary time we're living through which is a strange thing to try to tie into a ridiculous story about vampires, but researching previous pandemics also helped me feel a little more in control. I mean, at least we know a bit about contagion now.
> 
> Please stay as safe as you can, both mentally and physically.

It just made sense to go to London.

That was where the people were. Hundreds of them. Thousands, hundreds of thousands just walking around, full of blood and it was so easy back then to find people falling through the cracks and who wouldn't be missed.

It was the perfect hunting ground for a new vampire who'd needed to move on from some... unpleasantness.

He was so sloppy back then. Messy. Stupid. Unable to control his base desires and barely able to clean up after himself.

Those skills had come later. A couple of centuries later, if he was honest...

He'd chosen this night's victim from a dwindling group in a tavern based entirely on the drunken glances he kept throwing in his direction. It would be easy to get him alone.

"They say a great evil will befall the city," the man slurred at him, the delicious smell of his blood almost masked by the stench of gin and unwashed flesh.

"Uh-huh?" Thor said, staring at his neck and trying to steer him down an alleyway into the shadows. Just a little privacy. Just enough. No lights from windows, no witnesses.

"The comet last year... It was a sign."

Ah, the comet... He'd seen it, of course. Everyone had. It had flown overhead so brightly. People said that it had made the night sky light up like the day. They were wrong, of course. Thor remembered the day and it didn't look like that.

He pushed the man up against the wall, hearing him chuckle, already feeling his fangs lengthening.

"Ooh, you're strong... I like that."

"Maybe I'm the great evil," Thor said. "Maybe you shouldn't have come down here with me."

"What?"

Thor yanked the man's head to the side, gripping greasy hair, sinking his teeth into his neck, into a vein he didn't yet know the name of, windpipe cracking between his jaws, the sharp metallic taste flowing over his tongue, so warm and vital. He felt dizzy with it, sucking more and more, feeling the man go limp in his arms.

Mmm...

The moment afterwards was always the worst. Not due to guilt. He didn't really... feel things like that anymore. Not after so many.

No, it was the emptiness of having succeeded. The run up was so exciting, the anticipation, the desire and now he'd gone through the hunt and the chase, he'd found what he wanted and taken it and now...

Now he had a corpse to deal with.

Moving it wasn't difficult, but leaving bodies somewhere too obvious had caused him a little trouble in the past. Oddly enough, humans didn't like finding dead people outside their houses, even those of strangers.

As it happened, this night was smiling on him. Some of the remains of the day's activity - horse manure, human manure, the effluvia and evidence of thousands of people crammed into a few square miles of space - had been raked into a cart by one of the army of street sweepers but hadn't yet been dragged out to the pits beyond the city walls.

Thor went through the man's pockets, finding a penny but nothing else of interest. He wouldn't be found. And even if he was, they would think it was a simple robbery gone wrong.

A whinnying scream rang out as he approached the cart. Horses didn't like him much. Them and cats especially - they could sense there was something strange about him. Something off.

Dogs still liked him well enough. He wasn't sure why. He thought they could smell he was wrong, but they didn't understand it and he still looked human enough to overrule their fears.

He watched the man's body sink into a horrible grave and scaled the wall behind him, looking in broken windows for an empty room to sleep in for the day.

Sometimes he missed the comforts of his old life in the country. He missed the stability and the clean air. But, well... He'd chosen to leave all that behind. He preferred freedom to anything else. He preferred London.

The city had a lot of diseases in it. All those people squeezed together with precious little sanitation? It was normal.

1665 was not normal.

Thor didn't notice at first. He didn't exactly keep up with news or human affairs. Why bother? He wasn't one of them anymore. A lot of it seemed pointless.

The first he knew of the plague was finding signs in one of his favourite haunts. Reading was still hard for him, especially unusual letters, but he understood "Lord have mercy upon us." He understood that watchmen standing around outside houses all night keeping everyone away was a bad sign. But why? What was going on?

He learned a new word that year. Quarantine. From the Latin for 40 - any house where a death had occurred of plague was to be locked up for 40 days and nights. No one in or out.

"It really is dreadful," a barmaid told him. "They rioted in St Giles when the first house was being sealed up. Managed to rescue everyone in it, the poor souls. Be left to starve, so they would."

"At least in these Godless times, we still look out for our neighbours," Thor said.

"I only pray he spares us much more of this sickness."

It was unfair to the inhabitants really. Trapped with a corpse, more or less guaranteed to sicken and die without proper cleanliness - and, really, in a city like this, who had that?

People tried to hide it. The death recorders who were supposed to inspect and report cases were often easily led with a glass of gin or a hot dinner to write anything other than plague on their sheets to spare residents being locked up. The contagion spread and spread even with the new pest houses for the sick being built.

Thor was having a lovely time though. People were dying at a rapid rate and so he could drink his way through whole houses without worrying that it would necessarily seem unusual for so many to die.

Anyone who could afford it left for the country, the ones who were rich enough. Thor could break into their abandoned mansions and sleep in far more comfortable circumstances than he had grown to know. No one had left much money behind, which was his other main concern besides blood, but he amused himself by leaving some of his victims on their beautifully embroidered bedspreads. A surprise for when they came back, like a cat bringing home dead birds.

Not that it mattered in the end. After more than a year of hedonism and losing track of how many people had died and how many had left and how many he had killed, Thor was out on the streets on a fateful night in early September 1666 when a fire broke out in a street called Pudding Lane and spread and spread and spread...

Not fancying staying in the slum houses on the outskirts of the city, Thor headed for the countryside after all, sitting out on a hill to watch the place burn until he needed to seek shelter from the approaching sunrise.

He'd never expected to be in London at all really. It made him think about where else his horizons could widen to.

Maybe it was time to get out of England completely...

Yeah.

Why not?


	2. 1679

Travelling was hard when you could only go at night.

Little by little, Thor had slowly made his way east, through Paris and Reims, Luxembourg and Nuremberg and in time he got to Vienna.

And he really, really liked Vienna. The architecture, the culture, the opera... Theatre became very dear to him, the way he could see representations of other lives, other people, a simpler world with heroes and villains and virtues and vices. Uncomplicated. And the music was unlike anything he had ever heard before, the skill of the instrumentalists and the singers making his heart soar.

He lived there for years, close to a decade, managing to learn the language in the process. And yet he was still apparently just as young and handsome as ever.

By rights, he ought to be approaching middle age by now. He liked to think that he would have aged with dignity, gathered some silver into the gold of his hair, a few more lines upon his face, still able to catch an interested eye with charm and good humour.

No need really. He'd learned how to glamour his way around, gaining favour and money in the process.

Never food though. Never blood or sex. Some part of him still liked to do that organically. He enjoyed the game still, the fleeting glances, the approach across a crowded room, the conversations in which nothing was said and yet everything was said.

He didn't much care whether his bedmates were male or female; only that they were fun. And he didn't bite them all either. There wasn't any particular logic as to who he chose to spare. Sometimes it just turned out he wasn't that hungry after all.

Still, men were easier prey in his experience. Wealthy young women tended to have many chaperones and were on the lookout for husbands, not mere tumbles. Older women, widows and those with their own money, were more likely to return his glances. Some were flattered and wooed, others knew very well of their allure and would gladly take him home for a night of passion.

He had one lengthy affair with a minor noblewoman, a contessa or marchioness or some such. She tired of him eventually, no doubt because she could never find him in the day to show him off. But the nights... He had some very, very fond memories of thick thighs and soft flesh, of the refined little gasps she'd try to hold back until he managed to make her moan in ecstasy.

Men, on the other hand, were easier. They were sometimes incautious. Reckless. Sure of their own strength but no match for him when the time came. The necessary secrecy helped with his purposes, of course. He'd let himself be led away for a hidden tryst, a moment's indiscretion, his prey unwittingly stepping into his trap.

"I've never done this before," Thor might lie, playing the innocent.

"It's easy. Just kneel down for me and open your mouth."

If he was hungry, he would simply bite the femoral artery, drain them in a matter of seconds, but sometimes he'd give them what they wanted first, sucking hard - without having to breathe, of course - and let them tangle fingers in his hair, hips bucking forward involuntarily.

"Oh... Oh, yes, just like that..."

It was a kindness surely to kill them at the very height of pleasure?

He liked it. Being turned into a vampire was a curse in countless ways, but the food and culture and sex that was his life now were truly a blessing. He was making the best of it, on his own terms.

It felt like that until 1679 when a familiar panic began to sweep through the humans. Plague never really went away for long, but sometimes the waves were... intense. A big city with many trade links like Vienna was struck often.

Still, as the bodies began to pile up, Thor found himself oddly... depressed. He'd cut himself off from humanity for some years after he was turned and was only just beginning to befriend some again and now...

The emperor fled the city, just as the English king had done fourteen years earlier, and Thor felt a heaviness settle into his stomach. Was there any point in forming relationships with humans, of any kind? Why bother attaching himself romantically or platonically to people who could sicken and die at any moment?

He stopped having affairs of more than one night. Most of the people who supported his lifestyle monetarily had left, some of them inviting him along but he had to decline. He was a creature of the night, shrouded in darkness. He couldn't retire to a country estate where he'd be expected to go on daytime hunting trips or turns about a garden.

No. He stayed put with the rest of the ordinary poor people, finding blood somewhat difficult to get hold of with many humans keeping inside as much as they could.

Still, there were often a few drunks to be found staggering home. Easy prey, especially when Thor was antsy and desperate and could hold his nose a little.

This was around the time that he started leaving some alive after biting them, well enough to recover. Maybe he was getting sentimental; maybe he was getting sloppy. Either way, it was usually those he felt sure would not recall a large man in the night, the flash of teeth, the fear. They would awake with sluggishly bleeding wounds and a headache. Who would believe them if they claimed a monster attacked them?

He was considering leaving the city on the night he stalked the musician, his stumbling feet taking him on a long meander through the streets, only just managing to keep staggering onwards.

It was frankly unsporting to target one so inebriated, but pickings were very slim.

He stepped out of the darkness just as the man turned a corner, a pack on his back with some kind of pipes coming out of it. A musician? Some kind of wandering minstrel?

Good. Less likely to be missed if he'd managed to get stuck in the city but wasn't a local. He was singing, a mumbling tune, the words too slurred for Thor to make out as he took his chance and leapt to the man's side, sinking his teeth into his neck in the very same movement, trying his best to ignore the stench of alcohol.

If his body was able to properly process it, he might have got drunk from the blood alone, but he slaked his thirst and left the body where it fell in the gutter. It seemed to be the place for the unknown nowadays. They'd be collected by the gravediggers and taken to a plague pit soon enough.

What a time to be living in where that was normal...

He needed to get out. This atmosphere of death was oppressive, even for him. He was lonely really, that was the truth, but he should get used to that, right? If he wasn't going to befriend humans anymore?

The more he thought about it, the more he understood why his sire had turned him into a vampire in the first place. For company. For companionship.

Maybe if he'd asked first, things would have worked out better...

He heard a few nights later, as he was preparing to abandon his worldly goods, go bat and fly over the city walls to avoid the travel restrictions, that the musician was taken to a corpse pit but that he survived. They thought the alcohol had given him some kind of protection.

They wrote a folk song about him. A nicer way to find immortality perhaps than the one he had been saddled with.

Thor began a long period of leaving his adopted homes the second there were even whispers of a plague of any kind, continuing his lonely, hedonistic journey, forever unsure of his destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The musician surviving in the plague pit is a real legend that I learned about while researching this. <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/O_du_lieber_Augustin>
> 
> Probably wasn't bitten by a vampire though...


	3. 1853

"Honestly, this country is going downhill..."

Thor wasn't really listening. If he had a penny for every time someone had told him that whichever country he was currently residing in was going downhill, he'd be even richer than he already was.

Life was just easier with money. He swanned around Europe reinventing himself over and over. He was an eccentric nobleman or a travelling tutor or a musician or a labourer - not that he ever actually did any work. Really he gained money in the same way he got blood; by exploiting others.

He had outlived more than ten monarchs in his homeland alone. He'd seen wars and empires and countries rising and falling. Things were sometimes better, sometimes worse.

And he carried on, waiting to find out what was around the next corner.

Alas, right now it was a thoroughly boring man in a bar in Copenhagen who was managing to make Thor really wish that gin had an effect on him. Was the blood even going to be worth it? The man didn't even smell particularly good, but he did seem rather isolated. It would take a little while before he was reported missing.

"Tell me more," he said, trying not to sound bored.

"Well, take the city for example. It's much too overcrowded. Now, some might say that's because of the prohibition on buildings beyond the city walls driving poor living standards, but..."

Someone was looking at him. It was difficult to say how Thor knew, but he could feel it almost. Like a cool breeze on the side of his face. Not disturbing, but noticeable.

He gave a quick glance, imperceptible almost, noting the woman making her way towards them through the crowd, trying to form an opinion of her. She was pretty, small, looking rather young and well-dressed to be out here alone in her blue silk dress. But there was a confidence in her bearing that seemed much older, a certain knowledge in her eyes.

She crossed the floor delicately, heading straight for Thor's companion, sitting down beside him like they were acquainted.

And up close, Thor could tell. He could smell that she was not human. Despite the pink in her cheeks and lips, there was no living blood in her veins. No, no... She was like him.

Interesting.

"Oh, Jane," the man said. "Join us, please. I was just explaining the overcrowding problem to Mr... Er..."

"Yes," Thor said, breaking his rules and using glamour to set the man gently off into a world of his own with two attentive listeners. He wanted to have a private conversation.

The man's speech washed over him as he and this Jane regarded one another like two cats unsure if they were infringing on one another's territory.

"You're not from around here," she said softly, even though none of the humans were likely to hear them.

"No. Are you?"

"Yes. But I've been away. And it's about time to move on again now."

Thor considered that, his hackles raised a little.

"Is that a suggestion or a threat?" he asked.

She frowned slightly.

"Why would it be a threat?" she asked.

"Because I've come into your town. I'm targeting your prey."

"If you think we're the only two of our kind around, you're much mistaken. But most will be leaving at the moment. There's been a cholera outbreak. Looks like a bad one. We ought to follow the herd."

Despite his unease, Thor was intrigued. He'd never met another vampire before, apart from his sire. He didn't know if that was by chance or if they avoided him.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Nineteen."

"No, but... But really?"

She smiled at him.

"How old are you?" she asked.

"Two hundred and twenty, give or take. But I was thirty-four when..."

He nudged his shirt collar down a little, letting her see the ragged scar. He'd fought hard. It was incredible he'd still been alive enough to be turned, really, with all the blood he'd lost.

She removed her ribbon choker just enough, showing him two perfect pinprick scars.

"You didn't resist," he said, hoping he didn't sound judgemental.

"Why would I? I wanted it. Human life is much too short. I have so much more time now to read and to learn, to travel... I asked for it."

What a different experience. Thor had been made like this against his will, still harboured a grudge against a man long dead. He couldn't imagine wanting to be changed.

"So you're still with the one who turned you?" he asked.

"Alas, no. She died."

"Sunlight?"

He'd felt the burn of it that first morning. The horrible sensation of being flayed and cooked, scrabbling for shadow and knowing for sure just what he'd been transformed into.

"No," Jane said. "We had a run-in with some hunters."

"Hunters?"

She laughed, a small laugh but bright and sparkling, like the harsh bubbles of newly opened champagne.

"Gosh," she said. "You really have been lucky. Would you like to share Walter with me? I've been meaning to drink him for a while and as I'll be leaving soon..."

Well, why not?

They took him to Jane's lodgings, a beautiful townhouse in the middle of the city. It was a stunning place with piles of books lining every corridor and staircase, a treasure trove of antiques and curios, manuscripts and folios, every wall decorated with paintings and tapestries, apart from one room which was nearly empty...

Apart from the distinctive brownish stains of dried blood on the scrubbed wooden floor, of course.

"Um," Walter said, survival instinct cutting through the effects of glamour.

"Hush now," Jane said. "It's alright."

She took his hand very gently, turning it palm up, sinking her fangs delicately into his wrist. He gasped and squirmed helplessly in her grasp, unable to pull away.

Thor simply watched with a degree of fascination as his panic clearly rose, his knees giving way, Jane letting go of his arm and lunging for his neck.

The smell... The delicious tang of iron and life spoke to a deep part of Thor's being, drawing him to Walter's side immediately, drinking from the wound on his arm, barely noticing when he went limp.

He'd never drunk with another person before, feeling almost transcendent with it, like he was intoxicated, watching Jane's face as she tipped her head back, chestnut waves of hair dancing in the streetlight, her pupils wide and perfect lips red with blood.

He felt a stirring of desire, reaching for her, but not entirely surprised when she drew away from him.

"No, thank you," she said.

Thor blinked through the haze of lust.

"All right," he said.

He helped her dispose of the body, not that she needed it. She was easily strong enough. It just seemed the gentlemanly thing to do.

Afterwards, she told him about hunters. Humans who knew about vampires and sought to kill them or at least to drive them out. They knew things about garlic and holy water, religious symbols and silver, all the things that could be used to combat vampires. Apparently they trained to resist glamours and carried weapons.

"They lured her out," she said, speaking of her sire, though Thor never learned her name. "They tempted her with easy prey. And then they killed her."

"I'm sorry," Thor said.

"It was some time ago. But that's why I get to know my victims first. Make sure that I'm not walking into a trap. I'd advise you to do the same."

They stayed together for a few weeks. Thor wasn't quite sure what they were to one another. They were not lovers in the physical sense, but the companionship of having someone who knew, who understood exactly what he was, what he did, what it was like to crave blood... There was a relief there. A sense of being truly himself with someone else that lifted a weight from his shoulders.

It couldn't last, unfortunately. They were looking for different things in life. Or death, maybe. Thor wanted something more... physical. More intimate, at least. And Jane was not interested in such things.

"You can stay in my house for as long as you want," she told him as she packed a few bags, fleeing the city as cholera ripped through the populace. "I'll write with my new address."

Somewhat unexpectedly, she actually did. And he wrote back. His very first proper correspondence. Even as decades passed, he was still a little surprised that there was someone out there who genuinely enjoyed conversing with him, even over the slow delays of international post.

In many ways, she was the best friend of his very long life, even if he never really thought he understood her at all.


	4. 1919

_Dear Thor_

_Once again, I have elected to pit myself against the windmill and attempt to try to break my weakness for a certain red substance. I hope you will wish me luck in this endeavour._

_Over the last few years, the fleeting nature of human life has begun to prey on my mind rather and I find myself troubled by my nature. I'm sure you understand._

Thor wrote back to Jane with the usual good thoughts for her efforts. She went through these phases every few years of trying to stop. Thor always thought they needed blood to continue on existing, but according to her it was possible to survive without. It was clearly difficult though. Even with all her determination, she had never managed more than a decade.

And Thor did not exactly share her belief in the sanctity of human life, especially not given the last few years. The so-called Great War had only made him feel all the more justified in his killings. He was a monster and a murderer but at least he was a more personal death than the emotionless blast of a mortar or the whiz of a bullet.

If he had killed a human every night for each of his hundreds of years, he still would not have matched the toll from just one of their battles. If the humans wouldn't put any worth on one another's lives, why should he?

Maybe he was just bitter at how this war had interrupted his life more than any other. In any previous conflict, there was always somewhere he could escape off to to wait until it was over. This one... He'd gone back to London, as he often did, drawn back to that city over all others, only to find himself the target of odd looks when he went out at night. He was a fit young man by all appearances. He ought to have been called up. People were suspicious of him. Some of them even thought he was a spy, especially anyone who knew he received letters from overseas.

His notes from Jane may be written in veiled references, but not for any kind of human affair.

It was all dreadfully inconvenient and he was glad it was finally over.

Or so he thought, at least.

There were vague rumblings in the newspapers about some kind of sickness in Spain, a flu of some sort. It didn't sound terribly serious at first.

At first...

The soldiers, or those who had survived the fighting at least, and the nurses and all the rest of them brought it back with them and soon the whole country had more cases than they could cope with. And where deaths had been happening "over there", far away, now they were right on the doorstep.

Thor wished he had Jane's optimism. She was always so excited about new things, new discoveries and ideas. He felt more like he bounced from one unpleasantness to another finding what fun he could along the way.

Maybe he should try harder... Maybe he should try to appreciate the humans for what they were.

They did make it dreadfully difficult though. All this business with kings and empires and weapons and treaties and ententes cordiales... It all seemed so pointless. Didn't they know they'd be dead in sixty or seventy years? Didn't they have better things to do?

Not that he could really talk. He wasn't exactly achieving anything. Just hedonism, as usual. Just blood and sex and good food and good times.

The war years had been scarce for him, only the odd tryst and opportunistic bites.

Maybe Jane was right. Maybe this would be a good time to try to break the habit...

No harm in trying, right?

It was difficult. He coped for a few weeks by isolating himself, but the desire grew more and more by the second. He could smell everyone who passed by on the street outside the basement room he was renting, stronger even than the smell of the city. They became nothing more to him than walking blood, the sound of heart beats growing louder and louder inside his head, rattling off his skull, echoing...

He didn't need to sleep, but he liked to, and the unending pounding made it impossible...

His nostrils flared when a human came close to his door, stumbling towards it with hunger clawing at him, letting out a grunt.

"Mr Thor?"

Ah. His neighbour from upstairs. He couldn't remember her name. Sweet lady. She had a brood of cheerful children who ran back and forth over his ceiling like mice. He wasn't sure where she was from, but he knew she wasn't English by birth. She was houseproud and thrifty, a skilled seamstress who could repair anything, she made the best tea Thor had ever drunk...

And she smelled _incredible..._

"Mr Thor, are you alright? We've heard some... noises. There's a lot of sickness going around."

He could practically imagine the heat of her flesh beneath his lips, how she'd taste, that first rush of blood from a freshly opened wound...

"Stay away," he growled. "I'm... I'm contagious."

He heard her heart rate increase, a little afraid of the risk perhaps.

"Can I do anything for you?"

"No... Thank you. Just take care."

He groaned as she retreated, that divine scent lessening from unbearable to merely irritating and despite himself, despite the agony, he found he missed the ache of it.

This was impossible...

That night, he found a man drinking alone outside a closed pub and made no attempt at hiding. He drank him almost dry before realising what a terrible mistake he was making and looking up, blood pouring down his chin, finding a frightened face watching him from a nearby window. A child, woken in the night.

Oh, no...

It was one of the few remaining glimmers of his humanity that he couldn't bear to bite children, but he knew that they were very difficult to glamour. They were in touch with their fears. Adults knew the world, or thought they did, and it was easy to convince them that they were not seeing anything out of the ordinary. You simply convinced them that everything was alright.

Children, though, had a terrible habit of seeing the truth. And right now, the truth was that a man had been murdered by a monster.

Still... Adults would not believe that. They'd think it was just a nightmare. He just had to make it even less believable.

Abandoning his clothes, Thor turned into a bat and flew home, the doors unlocked just as he'd left them, feeling empty and unhappy, the regret already settling into his stomach.

He'd try again to give up blood. And again. And he'd fail over and over again, but keep trying.

Maybe one day, he'd beat his nature. Maybe one day, he'd meet someone who could help him.

One thing was for sure - next time there was a war or a plague, he was going to sleep through it.


	5. 2009

Thor wished he knew the people who had developed the idea of the gothic nightclub so he could buy them anything their hearts desired. It was the perfect place for him.

He'd met a lot of very interesting humans over the last few decades. Vampires had become sexy. There were humans who wanted to be bitten, who desired such things and treated it as a game. No more targeting the drunk or vulnerable - he could find people who asked him to bite them. Asked for it! He'd never have dreamt of such a thing.

They didn't know he was really a vampire of course. They thought it was all pretend, just going a little too far accidentally when he broke the skin. He'd become adept at apologising and helping to dress the wounds. Sometimes he even got invited back for a second round.

Jane had read many of the books the humans had written about vampires starting a couple of centuries ago. Apparently some of them were very funny.

Thor was dancing, scanning the crowd for likely new friends, hoping that there wouldn't be a silver tongue piercing like that week, and then...

Then he saw him for the first time.

It was lust at first sight on Thor's part. He didn't have a particular preferred type of human, but this man was endlessly desirable. He was alone, tall and slender, dark hair, looking slightly awkward, dressed in a black shirt and rubbing painted nails over a long, pale neck.

Thor could almost imagine that flesh yielding beneath his fangs...

Dancers parted before him without knowing why they'd moved, letting him sidle over, letting just a little of his natural power out, making himself just a little tempting. He normally wouldn't but he wanted this man so badly.

"Hi," he breathed. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"No, thank you."

Hmm... Most people wouldn't have refused with glamour washing over them, even in such small amounts. Interesting.

"Care to dance?"

No reply, but the man stepped out onto the floor, settling into the pounding rhythm of the music. He seemed nervous and Thor found himself wondering if this was his first time here. He didn't exactly look like the regulars. He'd tried to blend in, certainly. There was a hint of hairspray holding a careful sweep in place, but the outfit... It wasn't quite right somehow. He wore it more like a costume.

Maybe it was the badly applied eyeliner. A practised hand had not done that. He found the amateurish smudges charming though.

"Come here often?" Thor asked, having to shout over the music.

"No."

Not much of a talker. This was strange. He was watching him with concern, worry. Maybe even fear.

"You OK?" Thor asked.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

That wasn't what he expected, but he wasn't about to say no. He followed the stranger down the stairs, stood by as he collected his jacket from the cloakroom, unable to keep his eyes off him.

He didn't even want to bite him, not yet. They could have some fun first. Show him a good time.

"I'm Thor, by the way," he said as they waited in the line at the taxi rank.

"Loki."

He was so tense, Thor smiling at him, nudging him a little.

"Nice to meet you."

The orange of the street lights played across Loki's face as they drove towards his home, very handsome but so stiff, jumping when Thor put a hand on his thigh, marvelling at the heat of his flesh even through his jeans, leaning closer.

"We don't have to do anything if you don't want to," he murmured. "It's alright. I'm not expecting anything."

The driver glanced at them in the rear view mirror and turned the radio up.

_A second wave of the so-called swine flu, which has already killed over 100 people in the UK, has been confirmed today..._

Loki smiled at him, but it seemed forced.

"I don't do this kind of thing a lot, that's all. Do you?"

"I'm afraid I do," Thor said, figuring that honesty was the best policy. "But don't worry. I'll be very gentle."

A shiver that had him grinning, tempted to be a little bolder with his touches, but resisting. A little care and gentleness were needed here. If Loki decided that actually he didn't want to do anything tonight, he didn't want to scare him off. Maybe they could swap numbers at least.

He smelled so good...

Thor paid the driver when they pulled up outside a tower block, Loki's hands trembling a little as he unlocked the main door and started making his way up the stairs.

"The lift's broken," he said apologetically. "But I'm only on the sixth floor."

Thor tried not to seem too excited as he waited, the door opening and Loki stepping over the threshold.

And not saying anything. No invitation. Not even a reflexive "come in."

It was hard to describe knowing that he could not take another step. He just couldn't. He stood there, forgetting to breathe as Loki took off his coat and produced a crucifix, holding it out like a shield.

No effect, of course. Thor had worked to learn to resist such things. He'd never been particularly religious even when he was alive.

"What are you doing?" he asked, trying to act natural.

"I know what you are," Loki said, breathless. "You can't come any closer. I'm... I'm here to stop you."

Should he pretend he didn't understand?

No. They both knew. No sense in dragging it out.

"Shame," Thor said. "Here I was thinking we were going to have a bit of fun."

"You were going to suck my blood."

"The thought had crossed my mind, but actually I had other desires primarily."

It was exciting to be hunted, in a strange way. And Thor was willing to bet that it was exciting to be hunting if Loki's racing heart rate was anything to go by.

"Like what?" he asked, breathless.

"Invite me in and maybe I'll show you."

Loki laughed, shaking his head.

"I'm not stupid. I went out to catch you. I've heard rumours about that club. You need to stop."

"Stop what, exactly?"

"Killing people!"

Thor shook his head, smiling wryly.

"Not me, sweetheart," he said. "Got me confused with someone else. I haven't killed anyone since before you were born."

"You're a vampire! It's what you do!"

Thor paused, looking at him, tilting his head to the side.

"Sure you want to do this in full hearing of your neighbours? Or do you want to invite me in and we can talk about this like adults?"

"You'll kill me."

"I won't! Swear on my cold, dead heart."

He watched Loki hesitate, walking backwards to keep his eyes on him, reaching out blindly to pick up a spray bottle.

"This is holy water," he said. "So if you try anything..."

"You'll burn my face off. Can I come in?"

Trying to look brave, but his heart telling a different story, Loki nodded.

"You can come in."

Thor moved across the room unnaturally fast, just to make him jump, grinning at him.

"If I wanted to hurt you, I would," he said.

"Likewise."

"But neither of us want to. So let's talk. How long have you been a hunter?"

"A while. How long have you been a vampire?"

"A bit under three hundred and fifty years. Got anything to drink? Not wine. I don't drink wine."

Loki frowned at him, huffing, closing the door without turning his back.

"Is that a joke?"

"No. I've just never liked the stuff."

It was probably very unwise to be drinking cheap lager with a vampire hunter, but this was the most exciting thing that had happened to him in ages. He was almost drunk on it, the smell of Loki calling out to him, such temptation, knowing that he wouldn't. This was far too much fun to spoil.

"How did you get into hunting?" he asked.

Loki hesitated, but if Thor wasn't mistaken, he actually wanted to talk. If it was all a secret then maybe he welcomed a chance to speak with someone who knew all about this.

Sounded familiar.

"It's kind of a family thing. My mother was a hunter and my grandparents and my great-grandfather too."

"And how many vampires have you killed?"

It was an honest question, just idle curiosity, but Loki shifted uncomfortably.

"None," he said. "But I've chased two out of the city. How many humans have you killed?"

Ah...

"A lot," Thor admitted. "But not for years now. Not for decades. And I've killed the occasional vampire too, so maybe I'm even in credit."

"How did you get turned?"

Thor's hand flew involuntary to his neck, to the scar he kept carefully hidden.

"You'll have to get to know me a bit better before we talk about that," he said.

"I have no intention of getting to know you," Loki said.

"That's a pity. You're very attractive."

He hint of blood rushing to his cheeks, Thor grinning at him all the more widely. He was winning, he thought.

"Get out. I'm letting you go, this time."

Thor obediently got up, still feeling postive about this evening's events.

"Well, if you change your mind or you just want to talk, you know where to find me," he said.

"I won't," Loki retorted, unlocking his door.

He did. It was only a couple of weeks before Thor spotted that familiar head in the queue outside the club, swaggering over to him gleefully.

"Looking for me?" he asked.

And Loki huffed and shuffled his feet and pretended he didn't want what he clearly did.

"If you're in my flat then I know you're not hurting anyone else."

Whatever he needed to tell himself.

It was the first night of the most meaningful affair Thor had ever known.


	6. March 2020

Alright, _maybe_ he'd left it a little while longer than he ought to have between seeing Loki, but things had been weird since that night when he'd been injured around Christmas.

Loki had been treating him oddly. Looking at him differently. Or something. He didn't know what was going on.

And it felt like it had happened a long, long time ago even though it was only a few months. He'd last seen him around the end of January. That was only... a month and a half ago, right?

If anyone was looking up to the street lamps' glow, they might have seen a surprisingly pale and large bat fluttering up towards a high-up window on a tower block. Maybe they'd wonder what it was trying to eat up there.

They probably wouldn't see the window opening and the bat flying in. Their eyes would somehow slide away, like oil from water.

Thor turned back into himself, completely nude and teeth on edge from Loki's garlic, but more concerned with the fact that Loki looked awful. Tired and unkempt.

"What's wrong?" he asked urgently, taking his hands. "Are you sick?"

Loki rolled his eyes, pulling away, getting back into bed and turning out the light.

"Of course I'm not sick."

"Alright. Good. Are you working from home?"

"Nope."

"Quit your job. You're not going out there."

A huff, distinctly unimpressed, curling up grumpily.

"Remind me when I put you in charge of my life, Thor. You don't get to fuck off for weeks and then start bossing me around in the middle of the night."

"This is serious. Have you not seen what's going on in Italy?"

"Of course I have. But I am young and relatively healthy with no underlying conditions and I am careful and I will be fine. Besides, my work is putting me on that 80% pay furlough thing till... whenever that's ending. I only have to go out for food and exercise."

"I'll buy your food," Thor said. "And you can exercise in here."

"Come on, I barely have space to walk around. I need to be fit, I need to be ready to... to fight you lot."

Thor blinked a couple of times, his eyesight still sharp in the darkness, slipping to the other half of Loki's bed; some things he didn't need an invitation for.

"You're joking, right?" he said. "You're not going hunting during a pandemic. There won't be any vampires out anyway. All the pubs and shops are closed, all the usual night crowds have vanished. It'll all be happening behind closed doors. You can't just break in..."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Loki snapped. "Without hunting, I'm nothing. No job, no friends, barely making rent and the eviction ban can't last forever. Am I just supposed to sit here and wait? How long?"

Thor hesitated before wrapping an arm around him, feeling the warmth of his body, that precious life held within him that - failing Loki deciding to become a vampire and spend the rest of eternity with him - he needed desperately to protect.

"It depends. But you need to be careful. I've been through a lot of pandemics and..."

A laugh that was almost a sob.

"I go out fighting the undead and you're worried I might get sick. That's adorable."

"I can help you if the undead are a concern," Thor said gently. "I can fight them, kill them even. I can't do anything about a disease."

Loki rolled over to face him, eyes shining in the dark.

"How many?" he asked.

"What?"

"How many pandemics have you seen? Did you see the plague? The real one, the bubonic plague?"

"Yes. And I saw cholera and typhus and typhoid and Spanish flu. They're getting less common now."

"How did people... feel about them?"

That wasn't really the question Thor had expected.

"I mean... scared, I suppose. People left when they could or they tried to protect themselves, but we didn't know so much about disease in those days and..."

"Do you want to have sex?"

Uh...

"That's not why I'm here," Thor said, a little concerned. "I'm here because I care about you and I want you to be safe."

"Thor... I'm scared. I'm not scared of getting sick, or at least I'm trying to stay pragmatic about that, but it's... It's all the rest of it. Hunting is my whole life. I work to earn enough to live and to pay for my equipment and internet to be on the lookout for any signs of vampires and without that... I have nothing in my life really."

"You have me."

The laughter wasn't what he expected, his heart aching a little.

"Well," Loki said, closing his eyes. "With all due respect, you show up for a night or a couple of weeks at a time to confuse me so it's not like you're really a constant."

"Confuse you?"

"I'm supposed to hunt you. I'm supposed to either kill you or chase you out of the city. And if that's the case then why are you in my bed right now? Why do I want you here? It doesn't make sense. But since you are here, you could at least take my mind off everything for a while."

He rolled on top, and Thor knew he ought to stop him, ought to talk some more - and after all, he could easily overpower him and hold him off - but the truth was that Loki's kisses were just as intoxicating as blood. Warm lips pressed to his, automatically parting his legs to let Loki lie between them, perfect and beautiful and so, so sad.

"Sure this is what you want?" Thor murmured.

"Mm..."

"That wasn't a yes."

"This is what I want. Please, Thor, I just... I don't want to think for a while."

Still a little uneasy, Thor decided to give him what he wanted. And he'd do it well.

He arched upwards, wrapping his naked thighs around Loki's body, running his hands over him and dispensing with his shirt, instinctively finding his nipples and feeling them stiffen under his chill touch, Loki letting out a shuddering breath.

It took a fraction of a second to flip him onto his back, that frightening speed that Loki pretended didn't excite him, lowering his mouth to kiss and lick at those firm buds. But no lower. Loki didn't like that. Which was a shame after all his years of practice, but no matter.

Slick. They'd need that. Not because Thor would require it but for more pleasure.

He could practically feel Loki's heart racing beneath his lips as he lunged for the nightstand, trusting that the bottle of lubricant would be there, as always, moving back to prepare himself as Loki tugged off what remained of his sleepwear. There weren't any new scars that Thor could see, no evidence of recent fights. That was good, at least.

"Could you... talk to me?" Loki asked.

"Hmm?"

"If you're talking then I don't listen to my thoughts."

Oh. Oh, right. He was normally good at that, but forcing it was hard. The slick squelched a little as he rushed, trying to think of something suitable.

"Can't wait to have you inside me," he tried. "So perfect."

He wasn't sure if that was having the right effect and elected to try the physical option, instantly back in Loki's lap, reaching back to help him line up.

They both moaned as he lowered his hips, taking every inch easily, savouring that feeling.

"Do you remember our first time?" he asked, starting to rock just slightly.

"Of course."

"You were so angry... Furious that you wanted this. So rough."

"You like rough."

That was true. If Loki secretly rather liked the danger of being so intimate with a bloodsucking vampire then Thor undoubtedly had the answering desire to be completely at the mercy of a hunter.

And then beyond that, he was drawn to Loki himself, to his intelligence and his devotion to his cause. He knew he was a thorn in his side a lot of the time but mainly because he felt a little intimidated intellectually. He'd had over 300 years to get to where he was now and he spoke multiple languages and knew a lot but he still sometimes felt out of his depths. And so he countered Loki with jokes and teasing and anything he could just to fluster him and try to stay one step ahead.

He'd tried over and over again to give up blood for him. Emailing Jane, asking for advice, trying to take it one day at a time and always failing sooner or later.

He loved him. That was the truth of it. He loved a human who took risks with his life. And that scared him too much to actually do much about it...

Now who needed distraction?

Thor bucked his hips, harder than he might have, Loki crying out sharply.

"Sorry..."

"No, it's good."

He'd closed his eyes - not that he could probably see much in the dark - but was running his hands eagerly up Thor's thighs, some tension flowing out of his body. Which was what they wanted, that's what he was here to do.

Loki even leant into his chill touch, arching up for kisses, vibrant and vital and...

"Move in with me," Thor murmured.

"Shut... Ah! Shut up..."

"You wanted me to talk."

He caught Loki's hand as he slapped harmlessly at his leg, laughing as he brought it to his lips.

"Alright," he said, rolling forwards gently. "Alright."

The idea wasn't leaving his head as he eased the pace up though, faster and faster, clenching his muscles just short of inhumanly tightly, revelling in every gasp and moan.

Though he might say it himself, he knew Loki would never find another lover like him. Not so strong or tight or full of stamina. And he'd never find another Loki either, not if he lived forever, probably.

He knew him so well despite the distance between them. He knew every inch of his skin, every new grey hair, every heart beat...

A rapidly racing heart beat now, getting close, gripping the sheets and holding his breath only to let it go in one huge out and in, sharp and perfect, spilling deep in Thor's body. So warm... He still loved that sensation best of all.

It didn't take him long to finish, pulling an exhausted Loki into his arms, letting him cool off against his skin.

"I meant it," he said. "You should move in with me. You wouldn't have to worry about rent or money and I have more space. And it would make me feel better, knowing you were safe."

"Wouldn't your landlord mind?"

"I don't have one anymore."

Loki sat up urgently.

"You didn't... You didn't drink your landlord, did you?"

"No! I've been good for months. I just decided I'd rather have my own place for a while. No more basement flat. Somewhere with a bit more character. And blackout blinds."

Sighing, Loki settled back into his arms.

"It wouldn't work, you know," he said. "After a few months, we'd drive each other crazy. And besides, if the other London hunters found out..."

"How often do you actually see them? They never have to know. And you could save up your rent money, get yourself a bit of a cushion for rainy days. And... maybe you'd like the company."

Loki ran his fingers through Thor's chest hair, clearly thinking.

"I'm tired," he said.

Thor held him and watched him sleep, hoping he would say yes.


	7. October 2020

"It's absolutely ridiculous," Loki said from the doorway, shuffling in with his cloth shopping bags. "It's like people aren't even trying to keep distanced anymore. It's all two metres in the queue outside but as soon as you get in the shop it all goes out the window..."

It was strange, living with a human. Being awake in the day for one thing, even if the blinds were kept religiously closed to keep the sunlight out.

Thor's fridge was plugged in and actually had food in it. The heating had been on for the first time ever. And, well, just generally, the apartment was a bit more lived in.

"I wish you'd let me go," Thor said, taking the bags from him. "It would be safer for everyone. Honestly, I know masks help but some people seem to think they're magic."

"I need to go out sometimes," Loki said, heading for the bathroom to wash his hands. "I need to see the sun and other people, even if they are driving me to despair."

Thor let it go. It had taken a lot to convince Loki to live with him in the first place and he didn't want to jeopardize it, even if they were managing better than he'd ever hoped.

He loved living together. It was the little things, like Loki's toothbrush in the bathroom and a book splayed open on the night stand. Since moving in, Loki had done a lot of reading, a hobby he'd been struggling with of late. Thor liked to think that it was because he was less stressed now, even though there were a lot of questions about his work and what exactly was going to happen with it.

It wasn't all easy, of course. He was set in his ways now after his hundreds of years of being mostly alone. He knew he was a little irritating by sitting in the dark sometimes and never, ever sorting out his junk mail pile.

And then there was the biggest one...

"You're doing it again."

"I'm not!"

He was. He was watching Loki eat. It was hard to resist; he enjoyed seeing him nourishing himself, knowing that he was safe and warm and healthy.

Tearing his eyes away, he tried to look innocent, knowing that Loki would see right through it, as always.

"I mean, it's not like I can possibly look attractive while chewing. No one does."

That was fishing for a compliment if Thor ever heard it.

"You always look attractive. You know you do."

"Well, maybe I just want to be reminded of it sometimes."

Thor chuckled, reaching for him and pulling him into his lap, seeing his eyes lighting up at being so easily manoeuvred, feeling that rush as they kissed, Loki gripping his shoulders and letting out a delicious sigh, chasing Thor's chill lips as he pulled back.

"Was that convincing enough?" Thor asked.

Loki fingers drifted round to Thor's neck, running along the scar there. He was curious. It was natural, really.

"Do you think we know each other well enough now for you to tell me about this?" he asked quietly. "I mean, it's fine if you don't want to, but..."

Thor hesitated. It was a very painful memory. But then again, he did trust Loki. He loved him.

"You should finish eating first," he said. "It's... not something you'll want to be facing food during."

Another kiss, a softer one, and Loki swung his legs back, holding Thor's hand as he finished dinner in record time. Thor kept his fingers pressed to his pulse, letting his heart beat calm him, picking Loki up afterwards. He wanted to be somewhere comfortable for this.

Loki was excited and not managing to hide it very well. His eyes were bright, his heart rate slightly elevated, letting Thor lay him down and slip beneath the blanket with him.

"Um..." Thor said, trying to work out where to start. "So, I was born in a little village near Ipswich. And my life was all spelled out from birth, or should have been. Farm work, marry one of the girls from the houses round about, raise a bunch of children, get old, die. Like my father did, like my grandfather did, like my brothers did. But things turned out differently when I was about thirty."

He paused, thinking back centuries to that fateful day when he was chosen for another path.

"There was a lord who lived some leagues away and he was looking for a groundsman. It was a great opportunity. Good pay, lodgings, food, the chance to see somewhere different. Every young man in the village wanted to be selected. You had to be unmarried, sober and strong. A woman came to examine us, the housekeeper, and I was the lucky one she picked."

He knew he sounded bitter. He was, a little. He had made the best of his new life - or death rather - but part of him wondered how things would have turned out if he had remained at home.

"I was a good worker," he said. "I was very grateful for the opportunity. I had a little cottage in the grounds of the manor house, I had a whole garden to tend and care for. Hedges and flower beds and trees. And I noticed rather early that some things were strange. The other staff were all rather subdued. They seemed tired often. And I didn't meet the lord himself for months. He only came out in the dark."

"What was he like?" Loki asked.

"Handsome," Thor admitted. "Older, perhaps in his fifties, or at least that was how he appeared. A streak of white in dark grey hair. Distinguished. Elegant. And he looked at me in... a certain way. I knew he desired me and, to be honest, I wanted him too. I invited his attention. I was fully consenting for those years. He brought me into the main house and I slept on feather beds and I ate the most exotic foods. I learned to read a little bit. I worked in the day and made love at night with a man who openly adored me. It was wonderful. It was a dream."

"Had you been with a man before?"

"I hadn't been with anyone before. Everyone in the village knew everyone else's business. I kept my little attractions to men and women hidden. So you can imagine how enraptured I was by treatment like this. I worshipped him."

"What happened?"

"He would... say strange things. He would ask me if I loved him, if I wanted to be with him forever and, well, I did, I was in paradise. But he didn't tell me what he actually meant. Maybe he would have done, eventually. But it didn't work out like that."

It was still such a painful memory. Even now.

"I went into the house slightly earlier than normal. I don't know why. I caught him, drinking from the housekeeper. His lips pressed to her neck. And at first, in that first instant, I was jealous. I thought it was an affair. That he slept with all the staff, that I wasn't special. And then he looked up and I saw the blood dripping from his mouth and it turned to terror. Fear like I'd never felt before."

He'd been gazing up at the ceiling but rolled onto his side, facing Loki in the dark.

"I didn't know vampires existed," he said. "I thought I was seeing a murder or... I don't know. I panicked and ran, fled the house, thinking I would summon help of some kind, and he chased me down. And he was so strong... He overpowered me easily, and he was saying 'Stay with me forever, be like me, we can live together forevsr' and I was struggling and trying to escape and he... He bit me."

He swallowed hard, even though he didn't really need to. It was more habit.

"The strange thing is that I don't remember it hurting. It must have. It's a deep bite and I was fighting. I think my brain sort of shut down. And as I lay there, dying, he bit open his own wrist and poured his blood into my mouth. Vampire blood is... stagnant. It's dead. Disgusting compared to human blood. I tried to spit it out. Didn't manage it. And I was carried back inside, put to bed, and when I woke up - unexpectedly - I tried to escape. And that's when I knew. It was when the sunlight burned me. And then the blood craving began. And that's... That's how it happened."

"What happened to him?" Loki asked.

"I killed him. I ripped him apart, tore him limb from limb, and let the staff take whatever they wanted from the house. I hated him. All that time, he'd been planning to change me and it didn't matter if I wanted it or not. Even if he'd just wanted to drink from me, that would be one thing, but he wanted to fundamentally transform me, to keep me like his pet. He took me away from humanity. From the normal pattern of life. And he didn't even ask me first."

"Do you... Do you think you would have done it willingly, if he'd explained it to you?"

"Maybe. I did love him. And I have met others who asked to be changed. But maybe not. Doesn't matter though. I didn't make the choice. I wasn't given the chance."

He'd always expected it to be the violence of the story that would disturb Loki, the reminder that he was so dangerous. He didn't expect it to make him emotional, his hands trembling as he reached out, pulling Thor into his arms.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you."

Thor shrugged, trying to make light of it. His default reaction.

"I've not been a good person," he said. "I've done a lot of terrible things. But... Well, if it hadn't happened, I would have died more than three hundred years ago and we would never have met. So it's not like nothing good ever came from it."

A sad little laugh, Loki stroking his back, just holding him close. Heart beating steady and strong against Thor's chest.

"That's why you'd never turn me," he said thoughtfully. "Because you wish you'd had the choice. Even though you're scared of losing me."

"You want to be human. It's not up to me."

There was a pause, Thor just listening to Loki breathe, strangely peaceful.

"Can I... see them?" Loki asked. "Your fangs?"

That was an unexpected question.

"You've seen them," Thor said. "Lots of times. They come out when I'm... excited. You've seen them more than anybody. It's nice not having to keep my mouth shut or the lights off, honestly."

Speaking of which, Loki scrabbled around for the bedside lamp, setting a yellow glow over them both, his hair in extremely handsome disarray.

"I mean, I don't mind getting you excited first. I just want to see them."

He slid a thigh between Thor's legs, one hand boldly sliding lower and lower, under his clothes, fingers running down his cleft to that sensitive skin, rubbing purposefully against the tight furl of muscle.

And suddenly it was a game, Thor keeping his lips carefully taut over even the hint of pointed canine, but smiling, daring him to keep going.

"No, come on," Loki said, arching upwards. "Show me."

Thor rolled them so he could lie on his back, catching Loki between his thighs, jutting out his chin demandingly.

"Oh, I see," Loki said, trying to act annoyed but not doing a good job of it, stroking Thor's already swelling cock through his underwear. "You want my prick before you'll show me yours?"

Thor nodded. It was tricky not to talk. So much of their bed play was verbal. Still, he could enjoy Loki teasing him, easing off their clothes and dripping lube over his skin, opening him quickly enough, only to stop with his fingers deep inside, not giving him what he really wanted.

A slick stroke of his cock, pressure against his prostate, Thor moaning with desire.

"Are they out?" Loki asked softly. "Your fangs? Are they all sharp and pointed just for me?"

He was so hot for vampires! It was really adorable. Thor made an affirmative noise.

"Let me see. I want to see how much you want me."

"Mm-nm," shuffling his hips, tilting upwards, sighing as Loki slipped his fingers out and lined up, thrusting inside hard and fast, just how Thor liked it best.

He couldn't help crying out, Loki grinning down at him, reaching out to run his fingertip over the points of his teeth.

If Thor had a functioning heart, it would have been pounding. This was so new, so intimate. Loki would never have been so reckless a few years ago.

Oh, he could taste him...

Gazing upward and being very, very careful, Thor sucked on the end of his finger, very gently, not so much as a graze of teeth. And Loki gasped, blinking slowly and then snatching his hand back, like he'd suddenly realised what he was doing, fear in his eyes.

It was alright though. Thor wasn't offended. He was a dangerous being, like a tiger or a wolf. He couldn't ever be totally tamed, probably. He had to prove, over and over again, that he was safe.

He didn't mind. Having Loki in his life was worth that effort.

"It's OK," he murmured. "Don't worry. Don't worry."

Loki let out a long exhale, rubbing a thumb over Thor's cheek, rolling his hips just a little. A little relief for both of them.

Thor hoped his kisses were soothing enough, reassuring and comforting.

And at least Loki couldn't resist him, desperate stuttering thrusts.

"Mm," Thor said, trying to help. "Oh, Loki... Yeah, right there."

He knew that Loki's gaze had never left his teeth and as an experiment, he tried running the tip of his tongue over them, hearing the gasp of excitement, feeling a harder thrust that had him moaning.

Interesting... They should explore this at a later date perhaps. As it was, he could tell that Loki was close now, hear it in his breathing, feel it in his motions.

Thor wrapped a hand around his own cock, stroking quickly, ready to catch Loki when he fell into his arms, crying out, gasping for breath.

In the awkwardness afterwards, Loki started murmuring to him.

"What if I never want to be turned?" he asked. "I can't... I can't let you keep waiting for something that might never happen."

"I'll respect your decision."

"I'll get too old for you."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'd look after you for as long as you live. For as long as you'll let me."

He'd obviously said something right with the way Loki cuddled into his chest, clinging to him. Reaching for a monster for comfort.

"Things will be OK, won't they?"

Thor wasn't sure if he was talking about them or Covid. Both, maybe.

"Of course," he said, kissing his scalp.

Was it suitably reassuring? He wasn't sure. His word probably didn't carry that much weight - he couldn't exactly see into the future.

But he believed it himself. And maybe that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for going so melancholy! Hope you enjoyed it anyway.


End file.
